Do You Remember?
by ArsenicAngele
Summary: Do you remember the nights we fell asleep laughing at nothing? When, after we spent the day running freely, chasing our prey (or each other), we would collapse into weary heaps upon the soft forest grass?


The archdemon shrieked as another lance pireced it's hide, and I wipe the sweat from my brow, racing toward it. Resignation calms my nerves and settles my stomach as I ready my greatsword for the final blow. I dodge the archdemon's attempt to lunge, and slash its great head with my blade; once, twice. I leap, sword in both hands, blade downward, and plunge it through the tainted dragon's head, driving it down with all I have. As the life is extinguished from the beast, it explodes. I feel my own life disintegrating in the blast. I fall, vision blurring, and I fade into darkness, with one thought in my heart, one phrase upon on my unfeeling lips.

"_**Ma sa'lath. . ."**_

And I am engulfed by light.

Do you remember the nights we fell asleep laughing at nothing? When, after we spent the day running freely, chasing our prey (or each other), we would collapse into weary heaps upon the soft forest grass? The last night we shared, sitting by the campfire, sharing the spoils of the hunt in laughter and listening to the hahren's tales of ancient days of glory? My head was upon your shoulder, your arm around my waist.

And that last day, which began so innocently, and ended nearly killing me; scouting the familiar woods for a leisurely hunt, and instead discovered a trio of terrified shems. Oh, the amusement we found at their expense! Would that we had never found them, _ma sa'lath_. The cost of our curiosity was far too high.

The caves; we had never seen them before, and how could that be? Perhaps they were never meant to be found; but find them we did. The desire for renown among the clan burned in our hearts and the excitement of the unknown clouded our judgment, so into the caves we went. Do you remember what you said to me then?

An apprehensive look in your pale eyes, you said, _"I wasn't expecting this place to feel quite like this. . . Maybe this wasn't the best idea." _

I took your hand and squeezed it, _"So talk, if that will calm you down,_" a small, encouraging smile upon my lips, and on we walked. You asked me why I came, uncertainty in your voice as the sound of our footfalls reverberated through the chamber. _"I wanted to be with you, of course," _was my reply. What else could it have been, _ma sa'lath_?

Your fingers laced with mine, and your cheeks flushed pink with relief and affection. _"I. . . thought that might be the case,"_ you sighed, haltingly, a thoughtful smile chasing your disquiet away. _"I'm glad." _

Oh, Tamlen. We were such fools.

The caves were more than they seemed; ancient ruins from a time long forgotten. The questions our curiosity had posed were answered with more questions. Grey stone walls and pillars crumbled around us, the ravages of time evident; but who had left these ruins, hidden for the-creators-knew-how-long: Elves, or Humans?

And the creatures within, _ma sa'lath_, do you remember them? Giant spiders spewing such stinking, pernicious venom at us as we dodged. You fired your arrows with precision, while I swung my greatsword with power. They all fell before us. Then, in that last chamber, the bereskarn. We had never seen anything like it; it was strong and terrifying in its frenzy. It stunk of death, and something else.

That was when we saw it: the mirror. You remember the mirror.

Of all that was decaying within the ruins, the mirror stood as pristine as the day it was created. A silver-like material formed the frame, and the glass that wasn't glass. . . Eagerness lighted your face and you approached it. A sense of unease fell upon me, and warily I followed you.

Something moved within it, you said, and yet I could see nothing. I cautioned you to step away, but you did not, _ma sa'lath_. You could not. The last I saw that day was your face, white with pain and fear, your eyes wide and unseeing. The last I heard that day was the scream upon your lips, a shriek that tore into my heart. Something exploded, and I knew no more.

Do you remember, _ma sa'lath_, our last meeting? The ambush which took the camp by surprise. My companions, roused from their slumber, scrambling for their weapons as darkspawn flooded the area; and then there was you, _ma sa'lath, _apart from the shrieks trying to shred my friends to pieces. You hung back, standing near an outcropping of trees on the edge of the camp. I did not recognize you.

With my greatsword in hand, I approached with caution, the light gleaming off the polished metal. I readied to swing, but your voice stopped me. It was distorted and gutteral, but there was no mistaking it, and my heart stopped in my chest. The point of my sword fell, hitting the dirt with a thud, hilt still loosely gripped in my hand.

My voice, always so sure, always so strong, wavered. _"Tamlen?"_ Grief too recently buried stung my eyes and I stepped forward.

You shrank back from me, wailing, _"Don't! Don't come near me!"_ You stumbled further back. _"Stay away!"_ I paused, my free hand reaching out to you, entreating you to stay, to let me near, and I followed you. You cowered at my approach, trying to hide your face in your twisted hands. _"Don't,"_ you pleaded brokenly, _"look at me. . ."_ Black spittle dribbled down your chin as you spoke, and something thick oozed from your eyes. _"I am. . ."_ a wheezing cough shook your thin frame, tainted blood thick in your mouth, _"sick."_

I nearly choked from the stink coming off of you, but still I could not do as you asked. I held out my free hand and tried steadying my voice, unsuccessfully. _"We can help you, Tamlen,"_ I said, though in my heart I knew it was a lie. _"Don't be afraid."_ Tears streamed down my face, and yours. How well you knew me, _ma sa'lath, _that you could see through my reassurance.

"_No help,"_ you wailed, hands grabbing at your scalp, where your hair had fallen out; that thick and golden head, now bare and scabbed with sores. _"No help for me,"_ you whispered. _"The song,"_ you whimpered, tapping roughly at your skull, _"in my head."_ A wracking sob escaped your tormented lips. _"It. . . calls to me."_ You hit your ears, as though trying to make it stop – the call of the archdemon. _"He sings to me!"_ you whispered frantically, cradling your head in your twisted hands. _"I can't stop it!"_

Do you remember what I did then, _ma sa'lath?_ Risking much, dropping my sword, I knelt and wrapped my arms around you, crying into your shoulder, and you cried into mine. But then you pushed me roughly away, frantically scrambling away from me. _"Don't want. . . to hurt you, lethallan,"_ your distorted voice faltered, breaking with uncontrolled emotions. A rage was building within you, a frenzy which demanded assault. _"Please,"_ you begged. _"stop me."_

I shook my head, denying what I was hearing, what I was hearing. I didn't want this; never this. _"Don't ask me to kill you,"_ I, in turn, begged, shaking. _"I can't do that."_

And then you rose, shaking in your own right, but with a different sort of struggle. Erractic emotions danced over your face before it found determined clarity. _"Then. . . I must leave you no choice."_

Do you remember those nights, _ma sa'lath_, when we would sneak out of the camp when all else was asleep? Testing each other's skills under the light of the moon and stars, with no distractions but the night-time sounds of the forest? The clash of metal against metal as we sparred away from prying eyes, the exhilaration of tracking nocturnal creatures of the forest, or the simple pleasure of running freely at your side.

These things flashed in my eyes when you lunged for me, and as I scrambled for the sword I had dropped I bit back a sob. You bore no weapon, but came at me with your bare hands, clawing, scraping, groping. With a sturdy heave, I swung my greatsword and cut you down, cleaving a great opening in you abdomen. I dropped my sword once more, and fell to my knees beside you. Your body I gathered into my arms, even as your tainted blood spilled from your mortal wound onto the dry earth.

Do you remember what you said then, _ma sa'ath_, with your dying breath? _"Always. . . loved you. . ."_ A twisted hand came up to weakly caress my cheek with bloodied fingers, and softly your voice spoke. _"I'm so sorry. . ."_

Do you remember what I said as the light left your eyes?

"_Dareth shirol, ma sa'lath." __**Safe journey, my one love.**_

"I remember."


End file.
